Hold On Tight
by Mari9117
Summary: War is in the air. Ginny finds herself in the middle of it all, with the most powerful person on the dark side following her every move. Trying to keep hold of her sanity, she naively thinks she can escape the clutches of Draco Malfoy.
1. Olives, Migraines and Giving the Slip

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

AN: This is a basic heads up to get some things straight. Book seven is disregarded, as are some other things. Ginny left after her fifth year and the war has been going on since.

Ginny twirled her martini glass, letting some of the clear liquid spill over. She fished the olive from the bottom of the glass and popped it into her mouth. Closing her eyes, she started nibbling at the tough green skin.

God she was tired. The slight rest she gave her eyes did little to relieve her. She hadn't slept a full night since her fifth year, five years ago. Her eyes took on a constant state of being dry and sore.

The martini was a bad idea. Her headache grew to be a pounding migraine and the alcohol made her even more thirsty. The ache in her jaws from chewing a mere olive served as a reminder of what happened twenty minutes ago.

As a liaison between the magical and muggle worlds, she traveled more than any of the members of the Order of the Phoenix. Her meeting with the ever-so-stubborn Prime Minister of England went just as they always did: horribly. She desperately tried to convince the muggle leader to take more precautions and explain the ever-changing war situation, but the only thing she got in return was a hoarse throat.

The once fiery Ginny was losing it. She was all over the place: fighting battles, surviving ambushes, aiding the muggles (in over 27 countries, mind you), and being Harry's biggest form of support. Knowing she should be on her guard, she still slumped into her chair, rested her head and thought of finally being home in Harry's arms.

Ginny didn't, however, notice a rather dashing blond man silently come over, order her another martini and slip her wand from the pocket of her robe.

AN: I know this is a bit of a slow start and it's incredibly short; it won't be that long a story, anyway. Review please!


	2. Never Been Alone

'_Poor sweetheart'_ he thought.

Draco Malfoy, seated in his regular booth in the corner of McDougal's bar, observed his charge, Ginevra Weasley. He smiled to himself. It was quite endearing, really. She was only a kid: one drink and she was already seeing stars.

The twenty-one year old Deatheater tore his eyes away from the red-haired, fair-skinned beauty. He pulled out a small, yet sharp blade and carved a notch in the edge of the table. He sighed, leaned back and admired his handiwork.

_Forty-two. Forty-two martinis, forty-two late nights and forty-two shouting matches she's had with muggle what's-his-face. She needs a new meeting place. _

It really was a big number, not to mention all the other missions he had to trail her. It's been a long war, but one in which he mostly observed and been kept safe. After the deaths of his parents, Draco became the Dark Lord's right-hand man. He was the mastermind of many raids, ministry infiltrations and battle-plans, but, like Voldemort, he didn't participate. He initially thought his second job (to "keep an eye on the boy's whore" as Voldemort put it) would be just as easy as the first.

How very wrong he was. Keeping track of Ginny Weasly, and (more importantly) what information she was leaking to the muggle world was like a Cleansweep 500 attempting to catch up with a Firebolt. It just doesn't happen.

Malfoy laughed to himself for making up the simile. _It all depends on the flyer, _he reminded himself.

He turned his attention, once again, to Ginny. He drummed his finders and sighed aloud; he was getting anxious. This was not uncommon to the stalker. While he kept it safe, she was just the opposite. Draco couldn't count how many times he's seen her in battle, or almost getting captured. After a while, he realized that when she cries out in pain, his heart jumps. He finds himself holding his breath every time she's hit with a curse.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen. Draco Malfoy was anxious and impatient and wanted only one thing above all: to hold Ginny in his arms and protect her from all the evil things in the world.

Though Draco had come to terms with his love, if not obsession, for the girl, he continually questioned his role in watching her. Was he her stalker, or protector?

One thing was for sure: soon, she would be all _his_.

Draco now looked at his muse with an interesting expression. His eyes portrayed a doting love, while his lips curved in a sardonic smile. We must remember, though, that he's still a cunning, Slytherin Deatheater.

_Ah, hell. Let's have some fun._ Like a ghost, he silently negotiated his way to the bar. The bartender raised his eyebrows, waiting for Draco's order. Malfoy nodded towards the now resting Ginny.

"Get her another drink. Put it on my tab"

"Right away, sir. Shall I tell the little miss who her benefactor was?"

"That won't be necessary. I'll be introducing myself later on."

As the bartender turned to mix up another martini, Malfoy ever-so-slyly dipped his hand into her robe pocket and pulled out Ginny's prized 11-inch oak wand.

_Poor thing. Little does she know. She's never been alone._

Ginny, dipping in and out of consciousness was thrown on full alert when the bar's crowd of football watchers suddenly burst into whoops and yells of excitement.

_Damn pricks. _She silently cursed the innocent sports fans for being too loud. Her pounding headache had only gotten worse. Stumbling out of her chair, she dropped a twenty pound bill on the table, to cover her drink and tip.

The bartender called out, "Miss, someone sent you-"

But Ginny just waved him off, not wanting to deal with whatever he was talking about.

Only two steps out the door and a strong hand grabs her arm from behind, jerking her around to face the one and only Draco Malfoy.

Fear flooded inside her, as if it made up her soul. She knew Malfoy wasn't someone to mess with. He was powerful: practically puppeteer to Voldemort's Pinocchio.

Ginny froze, her eyes never leaving his. She willed herself to get a grip and get her wand, but her body refused to obey.

Malfoy pursed his lips, trying to keep from grinning. _I have her._ He kept a good grip on Ginny's arm, while placing his other hand firmly under Ginny's chin. His eyes, mesmerized by hers, finally pulled away and inspected the face of the object of his obsession. He memorized the shape of her eyes, the location of every freckle and the semblance of pure innocence that radiated throughout her. His eyes once again met hers, and he allowed himself a smile of wonderment.

"Well, aren't you pretty?"

AN: Review please!


	3. Trapped in Freedom

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, etc.

Chapter three: Trapped in Freedom

Ginny's POV

It was like being under a spell: locked in the arms of Draco Malfoy, watching me in total fascination, and not being able to do a thing about it. But once he returned my deer-in-headlights gaze with his sneering eyes and his cold, dominant voice took wind, I snapped out of it.

I thrashed around, hoping my suddenly violent actions would throw him off. His grip only got tighter and he pulled me closer. This only made me more aware of what he just said, and how he just looked at me

I stopped after a few seconds, realizing I was weak compared to this Quidditch-toned Deatheater. Fatigue overcame me; I sagged in his grip and closed my eyes. Gosh, it was only _one_ martini. My hands were spazzing, like I couldn't hold on to an apple if my life depended on it. My head felt like it was filled with bricks. I was trying to remember why I ever thought it was a good idea to wear heels.

Malfoy, identifying my defeat, gently slipped an arm around my waist and half dragged, half carried me into the nearest alleyway. His courtesy of being gentle was soon forgotten when he threw me against the brick wall. I waited for myself to sink down, but found I was being supported by his hands on my hips. I looked up at his oddly serene and questioning gaze and winced.

I somehow managed to get drunk off of one drink, I was tired and I just did not want to _deal. _The light side will just have to do with one more day Draco Malfoy is still out there, because I'm certainly not doing this right now.

With my hands free, I pushed Malfoy away. Surprisingly, he let go, but only stepped back a couple paces. Wand, wand…need wand. I need to focus: stupefy or confund the Malfoy brat, run and aparate. Easy peasy. I groped around for my wand…

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Draco's POV

I sighed and watched her in pure amusement. This was better than seeing my house elves squirm when being admonished.

My Ginny was certainly not cut out for this. This was a grown-up's war, and a girl like her, only educated up to her fifth year, did not belong in it.

"Looking for this?"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Ginny's POV

"Looking for this?"

Oh, shit. I abandoned the search for my wand and looked up to see Malfoy calmly smiling and waving my wand. No, this can't be happening – I, in my semi-lucid state, wandless, facing the most powerful Deatheater and Voldemort's successor?

"Ginevra, Ginevra…" he came over and stroked my cheek. "Potter must be slipping if he keeps putting _you _out on the field."

I don't like this…but I have to be strong – he hasn't won yet. I jerked my face from his hand.

Malfoy gave out a merciless laugh. "What are you going to do, sweetheart? This isn't Hogwarts anymore, and you aren't nearly as sharp as I expected you to be."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I hoped our conversation distracted him a bit; I sporadically lunged for my wand, but Malfoy all-too-easily took a step back, out of my reach. I stumbled but regained my form. When I looked up at him, he was sporting an extremely annoyed expression.

Before I knew it, he had thrown me up against the wall, holding on to both my arms. The impact sent my head flying back and I banged it against the brick wall

"Ow!" I cried. I was wincing with pain.

"Shh," Malfoy whispered. He was massaging the spot where I hit my head, making the pain evade.

I opened my eyes and looked up at him. Fury replaced the pain – I wanted to fight the bastard, make him feel how much I hurt and how scared I was. His close proximity made me all the more aware of the six inch difference in our heights. I was 5'7" to his massive 6'1". Maybe fighting would be best left until I had my wand back. Malfoy's soothing voice pulled me from my thoughts.

"Babe, it's funny really. How you hadn't noticed my spying on any of those silly meetings you go on. You didn't feel a think when I pulled your wand out of your robes, or how I've been slipping drugs into your martinis. It's cute…I wonder how much more I could get away with…" It was incredible how his soft, tender touch and gentle voice could be accompanied by such harsh words.

"Please, let me go," I whined, disgusted with myself for going so low as to beg for freedom. I looked around, hoping to attract some form of attention from the outside world.

"Mm…not yet," Draco said. He stopped caressing my head and took hold of my chin, forcing met o face him full on. My eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Ginevra Weasley—"

"Ginny," I automatically corrected.

Malfoy suppressed a laugh and shook his head. "Darling do you know and comprehend how _powerful _I am? Do you understand you're _losing _the war?" He said this so condescendingly.

"You bastard!" I screamed.

"Now I won't take you with me right now," he proceeded as if I never said anything. "You can keep on being Pothead's adorable little cheerleader, but be _safe._ I fully intend on winning this war and I refuse to lose you in the process."

"You're delusional…" I whispered.

"I _will_ win this war and to hell if anyone thinks a boy with an unusual reaction to killing curses will stop me." With that, he slipped my wand back into my fingers, kissed me on the forehead and promptly disappeared.

I shuddered. I must have been the only one to survive a run-in with the world's most feared Deatheater.

AN: _Please _review. I need to know if I should go on with the story.


	4. Disturbia

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 4: Disturbia

Ginny's POV

After a few moments of heavy breathing, I got my bearings. I shook my head to ward off the rest of my headache.

_My skin still burned from the memory of his touch._

My face suddenly flushed with embarrassment. As juvenile as it sounds, Draco Malfoy had the hots for me. I felt like I was pushed into an unknown spotlight. I cautiously walked out of the alleyway, making my way to a ministry-approved apparating site. Every corner I turned, I got redder. I wondered how many people knew: what went on, how he treated me, fooled me, caressed me.

Gosh, I was being ridiculous. _Of course_ no one knew the past 10 minutes of _my_ life. And I had no reason to feel embarrassed. I didn't cheat on Harry and had absolutely no interest in Malfoy.

In fact, I was scared shitless of him.

Finally at the site, I tightened my grip on my wand, to make sure it was still there. After what happened, I don't think I'll _ever _let go of it. After focusing a little, I'm squeezed as if through a tiny tube, disappearing into space.

One hundred twenty miles away, I stumbled into the kitchen of my and Harry's small apartment located in a suburban muggle town. I guess I was still a bit shaken after my encounter with Malfoy, I nearly crashed into a chair. Harry, taken by surprise, jumped up from his place at the table, Daily Prophet still in hand. I started toward him, just wanting to be in his arms, safe and secure.

_Just how Malfoy wants me: _safe_. His words still rang in my ears: "You can keep on being Pothead's adorable little cheerleader, but be _safe._"_

But before I could grab hold of Harry, he shot up his wand and looked at me expectantly.

"What did Kreacher give me for Christmas during my sixth year?"

I sighed. Security questions. I felt like I was going to collapse and on the brink of tears. I quickly answered, "a package of moths." (A/N: I kind of forgot what Kreacher really gave HP, but it was something along these lines.)

Harry gently dropped his wand and softly smiled.

_For a second, my blood turns cold. Malfoy's distinct leer flashes before me, and I wonder if Harry ever handled me in a condescending way._

Ridiculous, ridiculous, _ridiculous._ I banish these thoughts from my mind and wrap my arms around Harry, my love. I nuzzle into him, trying to get as close as I could possibly get. I couldn't believe how much I was shaking – I was home and safe. The idea that I faced possible capture, torture, even death just a few minutes ago was incredible. The weight of the war suddenly crashed onto my shoulders, and I let a few tears escape.

"What happened?" Harry asked. He stroked my hair and held me closer.

My eyes shot open as I became aware that this was more than a soft body I was taking console in.

_Harry's voice was just as soft and concerned as Malfoy's. I wanted him to stop stroking my hair; it reminded me of Malfoy's skilled fingers massaging my skull. _

It was sick of me to make parallels between Malfoy and Harry. I couldn't help it. Though Malfoy was miles away, he would now and forever be ever present in my life.

Then I felt something different: my heart banging against Harry's chest, and his own, calmer heart beating in time with mine, trying to slow it down.

I suddenly knew what I needed to do. I had to fight harder and beat Malfoy at his own game, for I knew I had much more to lose: the war, Harry, my family, my sanity, my freedom.

But right now, I let it all go. I collapsed, sobbing, into Harry's protective shell, holding on tight.

Please review! There are only a couple more chapters left, but any of your ideas or constructive criticism would be much appreciated.


	5. Cold, Cruel Calculations

A/N: Thanks for the reviews!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything remotely related to mentioned subject.

Chapter 5: Cold, Cruel Calculations

Ginny's POV

I kept turning my full glass of brandy around in my hand, nursing but not drinking. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my back._ Keep in character. Keep in character._

But, then again, I think I already attracted enough attention when I plomped down on a barstool and blurted out "brandy" to an expecting bartender. I should've said something classier…a mimosa, or a Bloody Mary, would do. After all, I wasn't Ginny anymore. My black-haired bob, super-waxed eyebrows and black satin cocktail dress suggested an incredibly different person: Katherine Scott, 26, waiting for her boyfriend to join her for a drink. A high-society woman waiting for her high-society beau.

Who also likes to drink _brandy_. Smart one, Ginny.

I discreetly turned my head, using my peripheral vision to scope out the area. Draco Malfoy couldn't possibly be here. I haven't seen him at all for the past couple weeks, and besides, this is a different bar. Taking a deep breath, I assure myself that I'm being too paranoid for my own good.

The bartender catches my eye.

"Refill, sweety?" I smile politely and offer him my glass.

I like Marty, the bartender. He takes the late-night shift and is always telling me (as in, all of my polyjuice characters) amusing stories about all the people who come through here. A favorite of his was the one about a man who was very convinced he was the reincarnation of King Henry VIII. I've heard that one about three times.

He also likes to flirt. I grin inwardly. A lot.

"You know, I like a good-looking lioness who can hold down some hard liquor," Marty winks.

I smile coyly, inwardly cringing. God, I'm such a slut. I raise my glass in a toast and take a long pull, just to prove his assertions.

"Looks like you had a long day," he continues, eyeing the bags under my eyes, and then moving forward to my obvious cleavage. Ew, I feel dirty.

I throw him a tight smile and say something or other about the newspaper deadlines. I didn't want to pursue a conversation. It was only a reminder of everything the Prime Minister told me.

I'm aware that I'm zoning out right now, and poor Marty's just trying to keep things going. I involuntarily shudder. The war had unexpectedly and spasmodically hit the muggle world. Murders…unexplained disasters…important people under the imperious… We already have half the Order maintaining magical- and muggle- world borders, a lot more people than we should have. But things just keep slipping. It's like trying to punch your way through a brick wall. More casualties than triumphs.

You can't trust anything anymore. We try our hardest, yet everything still seems to fall apart. And then it manages to get worse.

"Work not good? You seem to come in here more and more often," Marty comments as he dusts off some wine glasses.

It was like I was socked in the stomach a million times. I froze in my seat and it seemed like even blood circulation was put to a halt.

Marty couldn't possibly know the person I took hair from. She lived 400 miles off.

Even before I looked up at the bartender, I kind of knew what I would see. I gripped my hands, wand in-between them, pursed my lips and lifted my eyes to meet his cold, cruel calculating gaze. His mouth twisted into a half-smirk, daring me to deny what he already knew. He leaned forward to whisper in my ear.

"Ginevra, my darling," he caressed his words. "Two can play this game."

All color drained from my face and my blood turned cold. I went into panic mode and shut my eyes, trying to concentrate.

Instead of the full-body squeezing sensation I should have experienced, I only felt something clamp onto my arm possessively.

"You apparate and I go straight with you," he warned.

And then in a moment of courage, I found my voice, unbelievably smooth and calm.

"Agreed, then. No apparating," I challenge back, shaking away his hand. I still had the chance of taking him by surprise.

"Wherever you go, I'll be able to follow you. I thought you'd learn that by now," Malfoy states calmly, as if reading out Newton's third law from a boring textbook. He shoots me a tight smile, which quickly disappears into a sneer.

I flush a deep red, and look away. I was a child being outwitted by the older bully. I shift in my seat, just dying to get away. Maybe running would give me a head start somewhere…

"Turn around, love," Malfoy easily answers as though I spoke my previous thought.

Gripping my wand tighter, I follow his command. I look up to see Blaise Zabini, leaning against the bolted door. He's grinning at me and winks. In panic, my eyes dart from side to side, and realization hits me: no one else is here.

Shit. I'm going to die. Right here, right now.

The sound of glass being plonked down on the table raises me from my thoughts. I turn around to see the Marty/Malfoy figure setting a shot glass in front of me and pouring a silver, potion-looking liquid into it.

I give him my best glare, which, disappointingly, isn't half as menacing as I'd like it to be.

"Let's be civil about this, sweetheart," he looks at me obviously amused at my expression. "I won't harm you if you won't harm me. Now bottoms up." He looks pointedly at the glass.

I stare dumbly at the shot glass. Does he really expect me to drink some unknown potion?

Malfoy sighed at my unwillingness. He grabbed the potion and took a swig, making sure I was watching.

I stared as I saw Marty's skin bubble and disappear into the flawless, pale skin of Draco Malfoy. I gasped. Actually _seeing_ him, the notorious Deatheater, was a bit much. I wanted to go home, crawl away, hide, cry, scream, fall apart.

My breath caught in my throat and I seriously thought I might choke to death. Which wouldn't be a bad option, I suppose.

"Baby, just have a little sip. Of all the people, you had to pick the most unattractive person to turn into. I want to see that gorgeous face full of freckles," Malfoy says soothingly, like a parent coaxing a child to take a spoonful of medicine. His soft voice actually does compel me to pick up the small, now half-filled glass. I hesitantly take in a tiny drop.

And it immediately starts to happen. My hair grows out more, all the while thinning. My bone structure in a way relaxes, my façade finally over.

Malfoy gives me a calculating once-over, as if I'm a mare he's considering buying.

"Well, what d'you want?" I manage to spit out.

Malfoy returns his gaze to my face and smiles kindly. "I just want to talk."

I inhale sharply, just wanting to get out of this mess.

"The war isn't going too well for your side," he goes on.

"How do _you _know?" I challenge back. All he does is raise his eyebrows. We both know he's right.

Malfoy lifts his hand to catch a strand of my hair.

"What if I told you I knew more dark magic than any book in the Hogwarts restricted section could teach you?" his hypnotizing drone makes me shift in my seat. My eyes are trained on his fingers playing with my hair.

"I wouldn't believe you,' I whisper decidedly. Ginny, he's just playing with your head.

Malfoy chuckles. "What if I told you I knew where all your little friends are, what they're doing…thinking…feeling?"

I tremble a little and shake my head, denying it. He's bluffing, Ginny, don't believe it. His fingers are making its way up my lock of hair, slowly towards my temple. He leaning in now, drinking in every part of my reaction.

"What if I told you I was the most powerful wizard alive?" his voice barely above a whisper.

His hand reaches my temple, and he gently places two fingers against my skull. I grip my wand even tighter, feeling threatened by this skin-on-skin contact.

And then he takes possession of my mind; his fore- and middle-finger act as probes, to deliver horrifying scenes. I shudder and lose myself into this world of flying images…

Malfoy looking as furious as ever…Vodlemort matching his glare…Malfoy being disarmed by the Dark Lord…he laughs and the emotion is so clear, I smile at this unexpected glee…Voldemort on his knees, surrounded by thick, dark, smoky magic, emanating form Malfoy's hands…being strangled, choked…I can hardly breathe myself, until the image clears up and I see the Dark Lord labor over his last breath before falling to the ground.

"What if I told you Voldemort was dead?"

A/N: As always, please review and I'll update sooner!


	6. Temptations

Disclaimer: I don't Harry Potter or anything related.

Author's Note: Sorry for such a late update. Thanks for the reviews.

Chapter 6: Temptations

Last time:

What if I told you Voldemort was dead?"

This time: Ginny's POV

My eyes refocused from the vision and I snapped them up to meet his. His cold, dark grey orbs were gazing intently into mine, as if they were trying to deliver an unspoken message.

My hands started shaking uncontrollably, and the grip on my wand faltered. I made a move to stand up from my seat, just wanting to be on the same level as the blond man towering above me. I'm was two inches off my seat when strong, slender fingers easily wrapped themselves around each of my upper arms and gently but insistently pushed me back down.

"Surely not leaving so soon, Gin?" Malfoy's eyebrows furrowed in mock concern. A mouthful of straight, white teeth grinned at me madly, as if trying to rival a Cheshire cat. "I'm sure you have questions." Cruel eyes sneered down at me, and I suddenly felt like a child trapped in an adult situation. Malfoy basked in his self-proclaimed superiority as the most powerful wizard in the world.

My eyes locked with his, I cringed away from his death grip. Shit. What am I going to do? I'm trapped in a bar with the man who killed Voldemort. The vision…he made it look so easy…

"Oh, darling, it _was_," Malfoy answered my thoughts.

And then I saw it. Malfoy was still as comfortable as ever while a black mist started creeping from the corners of the room, making its way towards me.

_Fuck._ He's going to suffocate me. I subconsciously whimpered and attempted to get up. Malfoy effortlessly kept me seated.

I don't want to die! I just _have_ to be stronger than this – I need to survive…

And before I knew it, the black mist was upon me. I never believed death could be so comfortable. The dew-like mist eased the sweating on my face. The body of it all engulfed me, filling in every corner and curve and I instantly relaxed.

"Sweetheart, why don't you stay in your seat and put that wand in your pocket?" Malfoy's voice broke through it all, a million miles away

Obedience overwhelmed me, stronger than any imperious. I was actually aware of what I was doing, but I truly _wanted_ to obey.

I relaxed in my barstool and slipped my wand carelessly into my robe.

The mist disappeared as quickly as it came and I was once again face to face with my pale blond terrorist. I felt the weight lifted off my arms as his hands glided down to enclose both my own. My calmness slightly evaded and I there was a tightening in the pit of my stomach.

"Among other things, I have the power to create illusions of sight, smell, feeling. For most people, illusions and reality are hard to distinguish. If one truly believes in the illusion, like Voldemort did, it can easily become reality," Draco explained smoothly.

"What do you want?" I whispered. This was too surreal. If Malfoy had the ability to manipulate anything and anyone, how easy would it be to defeat the light side, build an army, murder anyone who got in his way?

He smiled kindly at me; it seemed so out of place. "I'm glad you realize the gravity of the situation."

"How do you do that?" I snapped at him. I tried pulling my hands from him, but he reflexively gripped tighter.

"You mean the dark magic, sweetheart? It's quite simple to summon once you practice enough. I'm quite curious to see your potential in this field of wizardry."

I winced at this thought and shook my head furiously. "No, I didn't mean that," I corrected. "You always know what I'm thinking."

Malfoy's smile turns secretive, as if remembering an inside joke. "Are you that surprised, darling? For a while now your little gang of rebels have yet to keep a secret from me."

"So why taunt me?! Just kill me now, do whatever you want…what are you waiting for?" Frustration kicked in. I'm tired of playing his game.

"Before I swoop in and win this war-"

"You're not going to win," I snarled.

He laughed and went on. "I have a few things I need to secure before Mr. St. Potter dies." He pointedly looked me up and down.

"Ginny, love, you're looking at the new Dark Lord. Imagine the _power _I have…the power _you_ will have as my wife."

I shuddered at the word. _Marriage._ The ultimate ceremony of finality. It was impossible to consider.

"Malfoy, don't even _start_ with me!" I got up and turned around to leave. Suddenly, he was right in front of me, trapping me between the bar and his own well-sculpted body. His hands found their way to my waist. He sternly looked down at me, like an adult admonishing a child. I looked desperately towards the door and then my vision was blocked as Malfoy enveloped me in his arms. His expensive cologne invaded my nose as I instantly relaxed, sensing no threat. I leaned in and rested my forehead against his hard chest.

"My dear, I can keep you safe. I can provide things you've always dreamed of. Potter can't do any of that" Malfoy's lips were just above my ear.

"Harry is twice the man you'll ever be, Malfoy," I bit back.

"Well then where is he?" he snarled in return. I flinched. "You've been gone a while now. Does he ever come looking for you? When was the last time he told you he worries about you? Ginny, love, _I_ have all the time in the world for you." His arms wrapped tighter around me. I tried to imagine the last time I felt completely safe.

"Well as you can imagine, Harry ahs a lot going on right now. I'm not a baby. We love each other and we'll both get through this," I whispered, trying to convince even myself of the foreign words.

Malfoy tilted my chin up. He's frustrated that I'm not giving in. "But what happens when Harry's gone and you're without him?"

I frowned and looked down. I couldn't imagine a life in which Harry and I aren't together.

"Baby, I'm your only hope for a future. Wouldn't you like to see the day where no deaths are reported in the Daily Prophet?"

_Yes._

"Wouldn't you like to live in an actual house? Have children? Live to see them grow?"

_Yes. Yes. Yes._

"You're young. _Live._ I can create that life for you," Malfoy's soothing voice comforted me.

I snapped out of my fantasy.

"At what cost?!" I say desperately. "Everyone I know and love would be gone. It would be a house acquired from money you stole. Built from muggle-born slave labor. It would be _your _kids…living in an oppressing world, not knowing any better."

Hot tears covered my face. My head was pounding. This war has been my life. It'd be nice to see it end.

"If Harry won, it'd be a thousands times better," I whispered.

"I see you can't be persuaded. Luckily it's my ultimate decision to make." He looked down at me with a cold stare. "It's unfortunate you don't care for your future as much as I do."

"I think I'll leave now," I glared and stepped around him. He quickly pulled me back and forcefully pushed me against the bar. I grimaced as my spine made contact with the hard wood.

"The harder you fight me, the more control I'll have over you," Malfoy said harshly. "I can make a future for us. The faster you learn this, the easier it'll be for the both of us."

AN: As always, please review. Just a couple more chapters and the story will be done. I already have the next chapter written…a few reviews and it'll be up by Friday!


	7. Exploding Skulls

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, etc.

AN: Thanks so much for the reviews. Now I would love to say that I have the story all wrapped up and just waiting to be uploaded, but no. I planned on only two more chapters after this one but who knows. These things tend to write themselves.

And on another note, I have never lived or been to England (but I want to!!). Please bear with me as I attempt to write and portray a place I've never seen nor experienced.

Also a few warnings: The events are not pretty but I particularly don't think my writing style is very descriptive (hence the fact that I'm writing fanfiction…). What I'm trying to say is that it isn't very gore-y, but let's just say Ginny and Draco don't go running off into the sunset. ;)

Chapter 7: Exploding Skulls

_Harder you fight…control over you I'll have…Voldemort's dead…I'm your only hope…come with me…_

A pounding headache jolted me awake. Breathing heavily I looked down at my sweat-soaked torso. My body was hot yet I felt like I was just dunked into a pool of ice-cold water. I shivered and clutched at the bed sheets, trying to forget my dream. It was only a dream.

But it was so _real. _His voice, harsh but softer in the end…the flashing colors before me, but still a mist of dark magic in the distance…the snapshot of his grey eyes probing into mine…

I shook my head vigorously, and tried to will these thoughts out of my head, I opened my eyes really wide to prove to myself that I'm safe, comfortable in bed. I forged a smile and try to calm down. Lying back down, I reached for the one and only person who can _really _make me smile.

To find that he was not there. I was really alone.

Panic set in. I thought of all the places Harry could be, all the dangerous things he could be doing. Why would he leave without telling me?

A more important question: What was Malfoy up to?

Harry would leave a note, I'm sure…I looked around trying to be rational.

I almost jumped when I saw the DA's fake galleon glowing on my bedside table. My heart started to race as I snatched the galleon and squinted to read the message. I moaned a bit when I realize I've wasted so much time sleeping…

"_A_ outskirts of London. _**Don't go in."**_

I nodded to myself and prepare for the mission. The galleon grew cold in my hand, sensing that I've read the message.

I grabbed for a pair of shoes, not caring about what I was wearing.

_Apparate to the outskirts of London…outskirts of London._

I grabbed my wand and squeezed my eyes.

"Neville, what's going on?!" I screamed to the closest person. My wand was up. I was ready and alert and I was rewarded with an adrenaline rush. I looked out into a brightly lit sky, full of fire, starts and deathmarks.

"The whole of London's being attacked…underground explosions…no one saw it coming. Look," Neville said in one breath. He pointed to the ground.

"What is—" I started toward the red and black line of intertwined magic floating three centimeters from the ground. It was a border around the city. My blood ran cold. There was only one person who could perform this complicated dark magic.

"Gin, I'm so glad to see you…It's been going along for a while now…and nobody's seen you…" Neville squeezed my hand.

"Have you seen Harry?" I interjected. My stomach's already knotting up at the thought of him being somewhere in this mess.

"He's on the other side." I sighed, knowing he's alive. Neville pointed to a direction eastward. "It started with small explosions o f tow or three buildings at a time – all along the border. We think it may be making its way toward the heart of the city."

"It's all about anticipation," I murmured. I took my eyes off Neville and looked at the scene before me. Thick black smoke rose from bottomless sources, like boiling water. I could hardly make out whole buildings; everything's diminished from the impact and there were heaps of rubble everywhere. There'd be the odd muggle fleeing and I supposed most of them got out a while ago…that is if they made it out soon enough.

_**BOOM**_

Out in the distance there was an eruption of bricks ad metal as three apartment buildings and a post office exploded from the inside out.

"We need to put protection charms on the remaining sites!" I yelled.

Neville got paler. Dean Thomas stepped in. "Gin, our magic can't penetrate it. It's too dark…we'd cast a protego and it would bounce right back. There's nothing we can do but try to get as many people out and safe."

"What if we try casting spells from inside the border?" I asked, starting towards the red and black line.

Dean seized both my arms and jerked me back. "NO!" He hissed. "Lavender already tried it. The thing senses it when one of _us _steps in." Dean started to shake and looked away.

"I looked towards Neville, wanting to confirm the horrible thing I already knew. "The ground under her feet immediately exploded," his hoarse voice strained to vocalize the words.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized we've already lost a good friend tonight. And poor Dean. He and Lavender had just started dating; they were smitten.

Fire fueled within me. "_Bombardum_!" I impulsively yelled, pointing my wand at the barrier. It if was broken, we might stand a chance at salvaging the rest of London.

Instead of my spell ricocheting (which I expected), it connected with the dark magic. Sudden pain overwhelmed me, ad I dropped to my knees. Everything clouded up before my eyes as I was taken possession by another dark vision:

I was in the same place as I was, only it's quieter. A whole and healthy London set before me; it was the early evening. _Crack!_ Draco Malfoy apparated before me, sporting a sardonic smile. He looked around and quickly started to chant a Latin spell. I recognized the red and black mist of magic. It rose over London and formed a ring, ironically like an angel's halo. Malfoy's hands suddenly bowed down, bringing the magic with him. It molded to London city's border, like a boa constrictor ready for the kill. Malfoy gave a lighthearted chuckle and turned around. He looked directly at me, as if I was really there, and winked.

I gasped, struggling for air and my vision collapses. Neville and Dean are kneeling beside me.

"The magic…it's hopeless…our magic can't do anything," I whimpered, dangerously close to tears. I looked up to the demolishing London. Beautiful London…beautiful buzzing London full of people, culture, history, all destroyed.

_**BOOM!**_

I was knocked back from the impact and the first thing I noticed was a glowing green everywhere. I'm deaf for ten seconds before it all hits me.

The heart of London had just erupted. The pavement gave way and thousands of pieces of bricks, metal and glass soared in the air like lava from a volcano. But this was different form all the other explosions – it was obvious. A hundred thousand dark marks flooded the sky, claiming ownership of the mess. The red and black barrier disappeared; the official end of the attack.

I couldn't breath. Everything was dead.

Strong arms suddenly encased me from behind. I tensed up as a picture of a smirking Draco Malfoy formed in my mind.

"I'm so glad you're safe," he murmured and I instantly relaxed.

"Harry, it's horrible," I whispered and turned around, burying my head in his chest.

"The end is near, darling. We're getting stronger; the next battle will decide once and for all," Harry tried to soothe me and I forgot all about Malfoy. His gentle voice and touches were nothing compared to Harry's.

"Unfortunately not that many people got your message, Harry," Neville said.

Fred and George emerged from the woods, looking beat up. I shot them both a smile, glad they were all right.

"Very true, we need to come up with a more obnoxious way of communication. Ginny, had a nice nap while we watched London blow up?" George half-smirked at his attempt at humor.

"Well, twin at least she made it to the show. I'll bet Ron and Hermione are still going at it in bed!" Fred chortled.

A shiver ran down my body. _Ron and Hermione._ The only two members of the light side who actually _lived inside_ London.

I didn't think, just reacted. All I knew was that the barrier was down, London as we knew it was gone, and no one knew where Ron and Hermione were. I started running all the way across the burnt city. To where their apartment building once stood.

To where their bodies now laid.

For a second I just stood there. Rubble was all around me. In the middle of it all I could see the two, lying side-by-side, practically untouched. As if they were sleeping.

I ran and collapsed on their bodies. A horrified scream escaped my lips but it was drowned out by my laborious breathing and violent sobs. I couldn't control it. I started shaking.

They just can't possibly be dead. Our world wouldn't exist without them, would it?

"And life goes on, Ginevra."

I shook my head back and forth. I couldn't take my eyes off of my brother and Hermione. I clung to their hands, willing one of them to squeeze back.

Despite all this I could still pinpoint that gentle aristocratic voice anywhere. I looked at Draco Malfoy with blurred, tear-filled eyes.

"Y-you c-can't do thi-this!" I forced out between sobs. The back of my throat was dray and ached.

For a moment or two I saw something completely human-like from Malfoy. He tilted his head and took a half step forward. His face was twisted in pain. It was obvious my being upset sincerely disturbed him. His eyes were wrought with worry.

As quickly as I saw these emotions, they went. His eyes turned cold and a content smirk crossed his face. He looked around to greet his Deatheaters, now forming a circle: Malfoy at the head, me in the center.

I clutched even harder to the dead bodies of Ron and Hermione, as if they could still protect me.

"Look what you've done! You're a monster!" I cried.

"It's the casualty of war, _Ginevra_," Malfoy shrugs, likes it's no big deal.

"You had to destroy everything? Make the war ever-so-public in the muggle world? _Innocent _people are _dead_ because of you!" I'm filled with blind fury. This couldn't be happening.

"Oh, but it is, darling," Malfoy answered my thought. "And that will be enough ranting from you; we all know you loved your bloodtraitor of a family and know-it-all mudblood."

I winced at his choice of words and looked down at Hermione. She had had it harder than any of us, persecuted because of who her parents were.

"You see, my _loyal_ friends, this is what happens when people _don't. do. as. they. are. told,_" Malfoy looked very annoyed and I was very sure it was pointed towards me. His tone turned solemn. "Ginny didn't have to witness this _most unfortunate_ event. I offered to personally guard her from all of this, but no. I implore each and every one of you to think and consider the events of today. Then hopefully you'll think twice before angering me."

With a sudden, impatient jerk of his hand, Malfoy signaled his Deatheaters to leave.

A sudden, eerie silence fell as we stared at each other. I was too overwhelmed with everything to do anything. Half of me wanted to march straight up to Malfoy and slap, hit, hex him just so that he'd feel an ounce of the pain I was feeling. But I also wanted to stay by Ron and Hermione's bodies, not wanting to let go and let them disappear, becoming yet another name on the Daily Prophet's list of deceased.

Malfoy's face turned gentle. "You didn't have to see it, love, any of it," I looked up to see him kneeling beside me, his gaze searching mine.

He grazed his hand over my bare arm, and I shuddered and shrunk away. "Are you hurt?" he murmured, searching my body. I blushed and looked down in embarrassment; I'm still in my nightclothes.

"What d'you care?" I whisper, not trusting my quivering voice to be any louder.

Malfoy sighs. "You should have been at home, sleeping…I was hoping you'd just sleep through it…" He took a strand of my hair and put it behind my ear,

"I'm not a little girl, you know," I snapped, indignant that he thought I couldn't handle this,

He cocked a mocking eyebrow. "War doesn't suit you my dear."

I furrowed my eyebrows and looked away, annoyed that I could never get through to him.

"My offer still stands," Malfoy grasped both my hands in his. I could feel the heat of his body warming my unnaturally cold skin.

"Ginny, love, think. Come with me and I'll bring you home- home to Malfoy manor. You've had a long day. I'll help you get cleaned up, you can go to sleep and not have to worry about a single thing for the rest of your life."

Home is where Harry is. To go with Malfoy would be a nightmare; I'd be a doll living in a dollhouse, totally isolated.

Just how he wanted me.

I met his cold, grey eyes, so corrupted with past memories of death and destruction, yet so clear and bright at the same time.

"No," I said steadily, my confidence building up inside me. Malfoy looked disappointed. He sighed and shot me a rather harassing look, like he was trying to mentally undress me.

"No matter. I can wait a few more days," he winked.

SLAP! I didn't know where that came from. The next thing I knew was the burning sensation in my hand as it connected with Malfoy's cheek.

"How can you just waltz in here and ruin my life?!" I hissed through gritted teeth, trying not to show my fear. What did I just do?

Malfoy got this priceless, bewildered look on his face. But after a moment it was gone ad he reacted. Malfoy pulled me close and I only had a nanosecond to realize what was happening before his lips crashed down onto mine,

"Oh I certainly am going to enjoy ruling the word with you by my side."

AN: I liked this chapter a lot better than my last. Please review! Constructive criticism is always great!


	8. A Demain

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

AN: I know this is a sad excuse for a chapter. But, c'est la vie.

Chapter 8: A Demain

We lay, basking in each other's presence, sheets tangled.

Our final night.

My throat ached, wanting to release a sob. I fought back tears and nuzzled against Harry's neck. I tried calming myself and took a deep breath. It's funny how that made me want to cry harder.

Harry, tense and quiet, sensed my distress. His smooth tan skin gave way as his muscles flexed, pulling me closer. I was reintroduced to his scent: soap and sweat, his own personal cologne. My head pounded in time to Harry's heartbeat, both growing steadily faster. He's alive. We're still alive.

It was uncharacteristically silent; a ceasefire. Candles blazed by the window, random shadows flickering against the wall. We'd tried to have the most romantic night of our lives. Everything was almost perfect.

And in a way it was. What's more heart wrenching than two lovers sharing their last night on Earth together? Screaming in ecstasy rather than pain? Showing love instead of hate? It was perfectly tragic in all senses.

I can't sleep…can't possibly lose another minute with him. There's so much I want to say, but I'd hate to break the silence. This is my last chance…the last time harry would be only mine. Not the leader of the light side, not the boy who lived. Just _mine._

"I love you," I finally whispered. That's all I needed to say.

AN: The next AND FINAL chapter will be up within the next two days. It will be longer. Anyways, please drop a review!


	9. Fall of a Prince, Rise of an Emperor

Disclaimer: I own nothing Harry Potter related.

AN: Well this is it…

Chapter 9: Fall of a Prince, Rise of an Emperor, Taking of a Queen

I had never remembered Hogwarts castle being so cold. It was the middle of August but it felt like New Year's Eve in Antarctica.

The front doors bolted shut. Our band of fighters looked around, not knowing what to do first.

"They're not expected to show up for at least another hour," Harry's voice rang through the thin air. It echoed through the dusty deserted halls.

I looked down at my feet. Had the floor really been that color marble? The staircase that wide? It all looked foreign.

I bit my lip. Just a few short years ago, friend and foe had taken classes together, ate in the dining hall—the most our rivalries would bring was a detention or a fist fight on the Quidditch pitch.

Now, it's death.

"…and Ginny'll be in charge of the third floor," Harry finished. I looked up form my daze giving the crowd a wary, cautious look. I'd be useless as a fighter if I kept blanking out.

"Security—shutting down any breaches?" Harry hinted helpfully.

"Yes, right," my naïve voice lingered in the air.

Everyone started running off and I suddenly felt the need to be busy, to move around. I started pacing off, trying to remember the fastest way to the third floor. Gosh I used to know this castle like the back of my hand.

Someone caught my hand and I jumped. Harry squeezed my hand and kissed it.

He gave me a wry smile: "Happy endings are so overrated." He winked and laced his fingers with mine for a moment, before letting go.

I didn't have an answer for him. The war fated us to die; we knew it, all of us. We just wanted to bring down as many Death Eaters as possible.

Hurrying up the stairs, my mind drifted to Draco Malfoy. It was inevitable: he was the Hades to my Persephone—just barely keeping me from death. I guess we'll find out tonight how far he's willing to go to claim his prize.

I allowed myself a grim smile. I'd never give him the satisfaction. My silver dagger rested cold and heavy on my waist.

Happy endings _are _overrated.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I decided to hit the library first to make sure all the fireplaces were disconnected from the floo network.

"What the _fuck _Genevra," Malfoy's furiously menacing voice cut through the silence. In all of two nanoseconds, I found myself trapped. The blond's muscular arm was around my waist, his hand forcing my dagger out of its sheath. His other large hand covered my mouth and expertly stifled my cries for help.

"Sharp objects aren't very good things to play with, you should know that darling," he whispered. He relaxed his grip, yet still held me close. An onlooker would label us as lovers rather than bully and captive. I grimaced when I felt his harness. I was dealing with a selfish monster.

A selfish monster I could kill, once and for all. The dagger glinted in the moonlight.

Malfoy dropped his head. I felt his light kisses on my shoulder. I tried squirming away…maybe with surprised force I could get the dagger…

"Anxious now, are we?" Malfoy said with the gentleness he's only ever given to me, but there was still a hint of trademark Malfoy wit.

"Malfoy be reasonable…" I spoke with unknown courage.

"Ginevra, this is for the greater good. The world needs someone like me to give direction. Now as for the final battle, why don't you stay up here and watch the master finally claim what's his."

"Can't make me," I bit back.

He turned me around. My legs were jelly. He took my chin between his thumb and forefinger. "But I can," he said, softly, pityingly.

And just like that, he was gone. The doors were locked. I've realized that for a while now, he's had complete and utter control of my life.

Happy endings are overrated. But who said anything about living past the kill?

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

And so I waited. A girl, captive in the very library that nurtured her freedom and knowledge of magic. I yelled, screamed, and cried like a drunk woman who's lost her house keys. Eventually, I became numb.

But I still had a desperation to be beside Harry. I, the sitting duck, felt the need to protect him from Malfoy. I stifled a sob when I realized the uselessness of it all.

And then my heart stopped. Something was different—not right. I desperately pulled at the double doors and was surprised to find one of them unlocked. I froze, expecting to find Malfoy somewhere. After one very long moment, I burst out running. Flitting down the main stairs Hogwarts's great glass windows unveiled an amazing scene. Dawn was beginning to set in, the blue light of the sky bouncing against the walls as red, whit and green bolts of magic were exchanged.

I ran across the foyer to the grand oak doors, heaving one open. The scene changed before my eyes. Deatheaters were the dominant figures, holding off the few of my friends who were left as Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter squared off.

It was a joust, a sword fight and a gamble at the same time. My energy seeped out of me, I realized how tierd I really was. My eyes were trained on Harry, as Draco's dark magic broke through Harry's shield. I scrambled toward him, my heavy legs threatening to give way at any second. A shaking hand reached for his body as it fell, and I collapsed on top of him.

A distressed cry, louder than 20 Phoenix's songs, filled the air. The ache in the back of my throat was the only indication that it came from me. I was deaf to everything.

"Oh Ginny it's over," Malfoy's truly concerned voice sounded from a distant place. I struggled, pounding my fists against his chest as he dragged me away from Harry.

I need to escape…I was so tired…welcome eternal sleep…but oh god he was so warm. My body kept shuddering with sobs and my fists were just numb pieces of ice.

I sagged against Draco's stable build, giving up. I buried my face into his shoulder and held of tight.

AN: Well, there you have it. Hoped you liked it! Please review even though the story's done. Possible sequel, anyone?


	10. AN

I will have chapter 1 of the sequel out before the New Year. Keep a lookout!


	11. AN 2

First chapter of the sequel is up! Check out the author page; it's called "Frightened."


End file.
